ukan | IC CONTACT

"Oh let Lark make the tea. He can do that much on his own," he tells him gently. "Sit here with me." Pagan walks to the table and pulls out a chair for Kiryu, brushing a hand across his arm before he takes the chair beside it and crosses his legs.

"Try the bread, at the very least."

Kiryu is fine with that, and he’ll nod before being led to the chair. He’ll sit, and Pagan knows him well enough to know that despite the faint sheepishness, he rather likes Pagan pulling his chair out for him. Big, intimidating Yakuza legend that he is, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t appreciate a little sweetness. On the contrary, that’s one of the reasons it’s even more precious.

“Should we wait for Lark-san?”

"For what? The bread? God no," he tells him softly. He leans back, watching out the window for a moment, one hand resting on his arm just briefly. "Lark's not going to offer just for formality."

He glances to the kitchen. "Speaking of Alec, how is your husband?" he calls out to him. "Keeping out of trouble?"

Kiryu will nod and settle in, taking a piece of bread and offering Pagan a soft smile-like expression. It’s a thank you, but he’ll otherwise focus on enjoying the bread and looking around Lark’s home.

"He's doing well. Pissing people off, no doubt," because Alec creates trouble when he's bored. "He keeps threatening to use you to settle our debates, though."

He comes out to them with a platter of pork marinated in an elaborate sauce. The side dishes are simple steamed vegetables, almost as an afterthought, but who can blame him for focusing on the meat.

Lark's home had once been white on white on white, a daring choice for someone who routinely spilled other people's blood. Nowadays it's bolder colors, red and green, lush rugs.

"How have you two been?"

Pagan visibly preens at the idea of settling their debates. Mostly because he likes when his opinion is cared about. But also because he likes causing trouble. It's a way of life for him. Creating a little chaos here and there.

"Any time you need my esteemed advice," he tells him, waving a hand in his direction. "I'll be sure to pass along my wisdom." He glances to Kiryu at the second question.

"And you know my every fucking move, Lark. That's a stupid question to ask." He gives him a dramatic sigh.

Kiryu watches Pagan, a soft, faintly amused expression on his face as he preens and answers. He dips his head in acknowledgement before he offers his own answer.

“Pagan-san picked out a gift for me for my b-birthday,” he says quietly, “and planned a lovely evening. It was very nice.”

Lark has come to know Kiryu as direct and well-considered and confident. That slight stutter would seem like a simple thing, except that Lark can smell emotions and hear a heartbeat.

He takes it in stride, though. He isn't here to try to increase tension.

"I could know your every move if I had nothing better to do," Lark scoffs. "But I think we're both happier giving you plenty of room to create havoc. What did you get for his birthday?"

He can't help glancing to him at that, a slight smile, an indulgent smile, and he reaches under the table to place a comforting hand on his leg, just once. He's not exactly trying to hide it from Lark - he can't hide anything from Lark - but he doesn't want to draw attention to it.

"Ah, well, you see I dug around for the best suit I could find from the wardrobe that would look good on him. You know, the only thing I have access to other than construction paper and safety scissors?" he tells him with a playful sort of tilt to his words. He's keeping it light. Despite his initial hesitation at the meeting, he's not feeling as patronized as he thought he would.

He isn’t quite blushing but there’s definitely a certain amount of sheepishness to him. The touch to his leg gets a hand gently patting him in return to let him know that he’s all right and he focuses a little more on Lark as he answers.

“I haven’t changed my look for a long time,” he admits with a fond look over at Pagan, “but I liked what he picked.” There’s a soft huff of a laugh. “It’s what I probably should wear. I never got used to that kind of suit.”

"What color is it?" Lark asks, one eyebrow raised in genuine curiosity. Pagan has a definite flair that is hard to picture on Kiryu.

"Black," Pagan says, feigning offense. "Black and red." He folds his arms across his chest. "Do you think I'd let him go out looking like an asshole? There are certain colors I can pull of that other people just -- cannot."

He glances over. "And it is something you should wear more often. What's the point of rank if you can't look the part once in a while, hm?"

Kiryu does not, at this juncture, point out some of the other suits he’s worn over the years. ~~Especially not Ono Michio. Pagan must never know.~~ Instead, he shakes his head mildly at Pagan.

“I like it. I’ll wear it. But if I never hear ‘yondaime’ again, it will be too soon.”

Edited 2021-06-19 04:42 (UTC)

"That is very true," Lark nods at Pagan. It takes not only a certain coloring, but also a very particular attitude.

He glances at Kiryu, head tilted ever so slightly. "I'm afraid I don't know much Japanese- yondaime?"

Pagan's own Japanese isn't top notch, which is why he had taken Kiryu up on the chance to teach him, but even he knows this one. But he stays quiet for once, letting Kiryu explain the intricates of the Yakuza for Lark.

He’s a little more on even footing as he explains.

“Fourth chairman. Chairman is, effectively, the highest rank one can reach within a yakuza organization, the leader of a group of families. He directs the various patriarchs and sets the path for the group as a whole.”

A short beat.

“It’s a term of respect, but it usually means I’m about to be pulled into trouble. Or asked to clean it up.”

"A bit like a 'cleaner', then?" But it seems to have more authority. Kiryu seems to have more authority than Lark has seen in anyone who wasn't in a high position: named partner in a law firm, politician, gangster.

Pagan tsks at that a bit. "In a reductive sense," he mutters. "But it isn't as if you wanted all of that anyway."

Which is just something he will never understand. For Kiryu, yes. But in a general sense? No.

“A ‘cleaner’ who commands 30,000
men,” because he wonders if Lark knows the scale of these groups. He assumes Pagan will.

“Even though I only held the position for a day, I’m still considered a pillar of the clan.”

And a legend among yakuza, the man to beat, the strongest among them. It’s why Izumi went after him, after all.

Lark is quiet a moment, calculating in his mind the numbers. Alec has worried lately that Lark is growing bored with his goals in California, and he's not entirely wrong. Lark commands the city of Los Angeles, done entirely from the shadows. He has bigger goals ahead of him.

30,000 yakuza.

But he shakes himself out of his thoughts by sipping his tea. "Do you like being held in such esteem? Or would you rather be free of them?"

Pagan knows the numbers. In theory. But hearing that gives him a bit of pause.

He cuts a glance at him out of the corner of his eyes, picking at his vegetables. "Isn't it obvious?" he tells Lark softly.

Kiryu is holding off from food for the moment, because they’re talking and he eats like a starving dog.

He glances at Pagan and then at Lark and it’s nothing he’s said out loud except for once back home; it’s a fact. Understood.

“The man who stands at the top, the strongest… to anyone who would make a name or claim a seat, he’s a wall to climb. You can’t fall, or you risk crushing others. But it means men will keep coming to climb.”

Edited 2021-06-19 05:39 (UTC)

It's near identical to how packs work. On the Barge, Lark paints it in a softer light. He tells people about the positives: the unfathomable depths of emotion, the safety in the numbers, the strength all in one's own blood.

He leaves out the bloodthirst, the constant search for weaknesses to exploit. It's not relevant here where his only packmates are Warren and Iris, people he can trust.

"It must be nice to have a break from all of that here," he murmurs. It certainly has been for him. "I think I can see more of why you feel so comfortable with Pagan."

Edited 2021-06-19 05:43 (UTC)

Pagan raises his eyebrows at that, not really expecting to be pulled into this part of the conversation.

"Comfortable because of that? I nearly killed him the first time I saw him. When I knew what he was."

He picks up his tea.

"But I don't speak for him."

"You would have tried," he says mildly to Pagan, but there's no real bite or heat or even firmness. It's a tease, and a soft one at that, and his hands lightly brushing his thigh should say that he's so happy it didn't go that way. But after a moment, he turns to Lark and he nods.

"This place is a relief for many reasons. The both of you among them."

He'd solved the problem of the constant challenges by 'dying'. Now, here, he could actually try to live. Build something.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject